Ashes, We All Fall Down
by prettypinklips
Summary: When a string of high profile murders plague Republic City, it's up to rookie cop Mako to solve the murders and catch the killer, trying not to fall for his blue-eyed enigmatic partner, Korra, along the way. This is *not* what he signed up for. / Graphic descriptions, language, violence. Mako/Korra, AH/AU.


**Ashes, We All Fall Down**

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**PART ONE: THE SATO'S**

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The Sato household lies in the Upper East Side of Republic City, the greenest grass and bushels of flowers surrounding the extensive walled in property. The house is two stories, with large windows and three balconies. Hiroshi Sato is one of the richest businessmen in Republic City, blessed with a beautiful wife and an equally beautiful daughter. He had retired many years before, and had thus far lived peacefully in his large home with his family. Money was of no issue to him, because he had plenty and he would have plenty for the rest of his life, and then, after he passed, his daughter would have plenty. It was a kind life. A blessed one.

Or, so Hiroshi thought.

His fatal mistake, however, was leaving his front door unlocked and trusting his security system.

A gloved hand grips the doorknob, turns it, and pushes the door open. All is silent and dark in the home, and the man wearing the gloves eases inside, weary of any creaks or animals. He finds neither as he ventures through the home, picking knickknacks and expensive electronics up and setting them into his black duffel bag. Stairs loom before him, and he creeps up, entering the first bedroom on his right. A girl sleeps in her bed, long black hair spread out on the bed around her. She sleeps peacefully, one hand lying on her chest, the other thrown lazily above her head. _The daughter_, he thinks, smiling gleefully. He sets the duffel bag down with a thud, and the girl stirs. He crosses the room, reaching into his pocket, hand closing over the hilt of his knife. It gleams in the moonlight from her windows as he pulls it from his pocket.

He slides a hand through her hair, brushing wisps from her forehead, and her eyes snap open. Her eyes widen, and she tries to scream, before she realizes a gloved hand is covering her mouth. She is rigid in her bed, terrified.

He presses the dull end of the knife into her cheek, a silent threat, "It'll all be over soon." He promises.

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Mako is fidgeting.

His knee bounces up and down, and he stares at the silver name plaque resting on the immaculately clean desk belonging to Republic City's Police Chief, Lin Beifong. He has this tick, the knee thing. He only does it in private, _thank god_, but it happens when he's nervous, like now. He's waiting in the Police Chief's office for his new partner. The Chief had left some time earlier, going to a meeting with the mayor. She had left him in the office alone, with the promise that his new partner was tied up, but she would be on her way shortly. He had been waiting for this a long time. The detective title finally belonged to him. For his work in apprehending the King Pin of a drug trafficking ring, Mako had been promoted to detective. Now instead of his police blue's, he's dressed in a suit and tie, badge swinging from a silver chain around his neck. His gun rests where it always is, at his right side, underneath his suit jacket. He'd been on the police force for three years, and had done everything in his power to get where he's standing. It had taken months of slaving and sleepless nights for him to catch his big break and catch the bad guy.

But he'd done it. And now here he was.

He would no longer be giving out speeding tickets and patrolling seedy neighborhoods. Now, he would be the first responder to homicides, robberies, _exciting things. _A part of him, Mako thinks, is in this for the thrill. The drugs and gun fights and car chases. Another part, a much more truthful part, is in it because he has a deep-rooted desire to protect. To help.

Mako straightens his tie once more, just as the office door is pushed open. A woman enters, and he knows she's the one he's been waiting for. (Perhaps literally and figuratively, but he won't think of such things until much later.)

His new partner is dressed smartly, long legs encased in formfitting black slacks, light blue button up blouse tucked in. She teeters on tall black bumps. Her hair is long and chocolate colored, and he can tell that if she didn't tame it each morning, her curls would be wild. Now her hair is pulled into a ponytail, light wisps of brown framing her face. The man in him, just for a moment, appreciates how well her blue top compliments her mocha colored skin. She looks exotic, small and slender, high cheekbones. She looks young, perhaps even younger than him, too young to be a detective, but the way her gun rests at her hip, he can tell that she takes care of herself. "Are you Mako?" the woman questions, head tilting to the side. He nods, and before he can say anything, she's launching into her next sentence (later, he will think her inability to let anyone else get a word in edge wise is adorable, but now it just annoys him), "Good. I'm Korra, your new partner. Congratulations, by the way. I read your paper on the drug trafficking case, it's very extensive and well-written." Korra steps further into the room, extending her hand to him. He stands, a little embarrassed that she'd obviously done her research on him, grasping her much smaller hand in his. Her handshake is firm, and he appreciates that in a woman.

"Tell me, Mako," Korra begins, "have you ever seen a dead body?"

Mako blinks, swallows thickly, lies, "No."

"Then this is your lucky day. There was a double homicide in the Upper East Side. I hope you haven't eaten anything this morning. I hear it's pretty gruesome."

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The crime scene has already been taped off, police cruisers and ambulances marking the beautiful home. Neighbors stand behind the tape, some holding cameras, others talking animatedly on the phone. A news van is parked behind the tape, and he can see the young brunette reporter begging an officer for access under the tape. He and Korra exit their unmarked cruiser. He lifts the tape for her before going under himself. The medical examiner has already arrived, and cause of death for both deceased parties would be revealed soon.

The Sato home is beautiful, the largest house he'd ever seen. He'd grown up comfortably in the middle class, and he'd seen houses like this, but had known that he would never own one. The pathway leading to the front door is shrouded with flowers and lamps. Korra is walking briskly towards the front door, while Mako lags behind, eyes roaming over everything he sees. Nothing appears disturbed, as if the un-sub had simply scaled the walls and skipped up to the front door. Which is exactly what he or she had done. They'd scaled the wall surrounding the property, and had walked right into the home, where he or she had murdered Mr. and Mrs. Sato, leaving their only daughter alive.

Korra is examining the front porch when he catches up to her, hands already wrapped in gloves. She shakes her head, turning back to him, "It's the craziest thing. He just walked right in." she taps the security system faceplate hanging on the wall. "The priciest alarm on the market did nothing to protect the Sato's when they didn't even lock their door."

"Perhaps the un-sub was let in. Maybe they knew him." Mako suggests.

Korra shakes her head, "I don't think so. I think this was a burglary, first and foremost. A number of electronics are missing, Mrs. Sato's jewelry boxes. I don't know how it escalated to murder. But I _do_ know we have the daughter as a witness." she hands him a pair of gloves, before she enters the house.

Mako slips on the gloves, following. The inside of the home is even more lavish than the outside. Hardwood floors, fine china, the like. His detective salary wouldn't cover _any_ of this, he thinks dryly. The chandelier above the front foyer swings, and the winding staircase is full of traffic, CSI's coming and going, uniformed officers checking badges. He turns to his left, towards the living room, and immediately sees the daughter. She's sitting on the couch; pale, tear tracks on her cheeks. She has her arms wrapped around herself, pajamas covered in blood. A police officer sits beside her, notepad out, frantically taking notes as the girl talks. "She looks like hell." Mako murmurs to Korra, and inside he remembers the night that he'd looked like that. Lost, forlorn, like the whole entire world had shattered.

"She went through hell." Korra agrees, "Come on, let's go take a look at the bodies before we sit down with her."

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Hiroshi Sato's body rests on the king sized bed in the master bedroom. His wrists are bound to the bedposts on either side, and his eyes are open, wide with the terror he'd felt before he had died. Mrs. Sato is lying on the floor, facedown. The room is covered in dried brown blood, as if it had been purposely splashed on the walls. Flecks are tracked along the floral wallpaper. A hammer lies on the ground, the tip covered in dried blood. Mako swallows thickly, stomach twisting. He'd never seen something like this, so much blood. He's not particularly squeamish, but this room is a slaughterhouse.

The medical examiner, a young man named Iroh, looks up as they enter the room, thick black glasses sliding down his nose. He smiles warmly at Korra, nods at Mako, and returns to the body of Hiroshi Sato.

"Cause of death?" Korra prompts.

"Inconclusive. I won't know anything concrete until I get the bodies to the morgue." Iroh pushes his glasses up his nose, "Mr. Sato's wrists were bound. Bruising and discoloration show that he fought back, and see this knot here?" he points to Hiroshi's left side, where the knot in his binding had come undone, "He was almost free." He makes a few quick notes on his clipboard before continuing, "Body temp puts time of death at approximately three thirty this morning. The nine one one call was received at three fifty four. Mr. Sato sustained several blows to the head. I've measured the tip of that hammer over there and compared it to the wounds, and it's an exact match."

"So cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head." Mako interjects, as Korra kneels on the floor beside the body of Mrs. Sato.

Iroh shakes his head, "I only wish it were that simple. The blows _could _have killed him, but the eleven stab wounds to his abdomen could have also caused him to bleed out and exsanguinate. As I said, I'll know more when I have them in the morgue and I can open them up. What's also interesting is the manner in which the killings were carried out." Iroh points to Hiroshi's stomach. His pajames are a deep red color, and Mako hadn't noticed the blood and rips in the clothing until now. Jagged wounds decorate his stomach, deep. "The weapon must have had a dull edge, due to the rough cuts in the skin, and of course, the depth of these wounds indicate that this is a crime of passion. The killer must have held quite a grudge against Mr. Sato and his wife. And here, the blows from the hammer caved in the back of his skull. There is a lot of anger here." Iroh leans up over the body, gloved hands tilting Mr. Sato's head forward for Korra and Mako to see. Under the mess of grey and black hair, the indents from the hammer are clearly visible. Mako grimaces in disgust. "This was very much an execution." He finishes. "I haven't examined Mrs. Sato yet, but I'm sure the findings will be very similar."

Mako steps around Iroh, gets a little closer to the body. The smell of death is heavy in the air. Mr. Sato's eyes being wide open does nothing to calm his jitters, and he feels an overwhelming sense of anger for the family. A husband and wife, slaughtered in their own bed. A daughter left without a mother and father. This is his first homicide, and he intends to do everything in his power to solve it. No matter how long it takes.

In the corner of the room, across from Mrs. Sato's body, rests a wooden chair. Cut duct-tape is wrapped around the legs and armrests. Asami had been held there, and watched while someone had murdered her parents. Mako nudges Korra, and nods towards the chair. He ventures into the hallway, grabbing a CSI, explaining that the duct-tape needed to be collected. He prays the un-sub had left his fingerprints behind.

"Since Mrs. Sato is facedown," Mako hears Iroh say to Korra, "head directed towards the doorway, I would imagine that-"

"That she was trying to escape." Mako finishes for him, entering the room again and joining Korra beside the body. Blood is dried in Mrs. Sato's dark hair, at the scalp. There are no stab wounds on the back of her body, and Korra voices it.

"Blunt force will most likely be the cause of death in Mrs. Sato's case." Iroh agrees, taking a few notes.

"If she was trying to escape, and she made it this far, there can only be one un-sub." Korra muses, "If there was anyone else, Mrs. Sato would have been detained." She puts her hands on her hips, looking around the room, "Hey, Mako, why don't you ask the daughter what she saw while the CSI's and I flip Mrs. Sato over?" Korra suggests, turning towards him. She can see his skin turning a light shade of green, and she must read his discomfort in being around the bodies in his body language. She's giving him an excuse to leave the bedroom.

And he'll take it.

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"Hello, Asami. My name is Mako. I'm one of the lead detectives on your parents' case. I'm very sorry for your loss." Mako introduces himself, tacking on the last bit because she looked so…hurt. He remembers a time when he had looked like that. She blinks at him, and she would be very beautiful if she didn't look like her entire world had imploded, which it had. Her hands shake as she accepts the glass of water he'd gotten for her from the kitchen.

"I already told the police officer's everything I know." She murmurs, eyes downcast.

Mako rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, "And what is that?" he asks, voice soft.

Asami looks up at him, "I woke up to a knife being pressed against my throat, and he told me it would all be over soon." Her mouth twists bitterly, "He had on a ski mask, and the only thing I could see were his eyes, they were brown. He dragged me into my parent's room, hand over my mouth, knife against my back-"

"Are you sure it was a male? He _was _wearing a ski mask." Mako questions.

Asami nods, and continues, "I could tell. He was tall, and strong. He had a bag with him, a duffel bag, and he pulled duct-tape and rope out of it. My parents were still asleep and he made me sit in a chair beside their bed. He taped my hands and feet and mouth," she sucks in a ragged breath, takes a drink of water, "and he told me to watch. I closed my eyes, but he slapped me, and made me keep them open."

"You saw everything." Mako assumes.

Asami's eyes meet his, "I saw everything." She agrees, mouth twisting into a bitter grimace. "He tied my dad up while he was sleeping, and I tried so hard to scream around the tape, but I couldn't." she rubs her chaffed wrists, most likely imagining the feeling of the tape binding her wrists to the wooden chair. "My mom woke up when he turned the lights in the room on. She saw me, saw _him_, and tried to run. I didn't know he had a hammer. He threw her onto the ground, and she knocked her head on the bedposts at the foot of the bed on the way down." she looks at the wooden floor below her, tears in her voice and eyes, "He took the hammer out of his bag, and he-he-" she shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I can't-"

Mako closes a hand over her shoulder, "I understand. More than you think I do." He promises, "Just tell me what you can."

"My dad was yelling, trying to break free, offering him all the money in the world, but he-he… he just kept hitting her, and then she stopped moving, and she stopped screaming." Asami closes her eyes, "He never said a word, not one, when he was hurting them. And then, after my dad, it was all over, just like he'd promised. He ripped the tape from my mouth and I begged him, _begged_ him to kill me too. He took his knife and cut the tape on my wrists and feet and then he was gone. And that's…that's all I remember. It happened so fast." She sounds sorry that she can't tell him anything else.

"It's alright. That was exceptional. You gave us a lot to go on. Thank you, Asami." Mako says gently. "Do you know anyone who would want to hurt your parents? Anyone who held a grudge against them?" he asks.

Asami shakes her head, "Everyone loved my dad, and my mom. They were great people." She says softly.

"And the blood on your clothes?" Mako questions.

"When he left and I called the police, I thought…I thought maybe my dad was still alive, but he wasn't. I hugged him, and now his blood…" she trails off, "The police officer who talked to me before said I need to give my clothes to one of the CSI's."

"That's correct." Mako says, and he decides that she's helped enough, and she should be allowed to grieve in peace. Mako hands her a card with his desk number on it, "If you can remember anything else, please don't hesitate to call me." He tells her, "Thank you for your time, Asami." She nods, closing her hand around the card.

Mako leaves the living room, meeting Korra at the bottom of the stairs. "Anything?" Korra questions, pulling her bloody gloves off.

"The un-sub is a male. Mom was first, followed by dad. The un-sub had her duct-taped to the wooden chair in there. Mrs. Sato made a break for the door, she was assaulted, and then-"

"The hammer." Korra finishes, grimacing. "Did she say why the door was left unlocked?" Korra asks. Mako stiffens. He'd forgotten to ask. Korra picks up on his new stance, "It's alright. I think we can assume that they thought they were safe in their own home. Maybe they forgot. Human error."

Mako nods, but in the back of his mind, he wonders why a man would pay thousands of dollars for a security system and not use it. He tucks the thought away with the plans of revisiting it later.

"There's nothing else for us here." Korra explains, "We can only wait for Iroh to finish up with the bodies and his medical reports. The CSI's have been cataloging everything missing, we could get lucky and find something that was stolen on the black market. I have an informant there that I've already contacted. Tahno will call if anything surfaces." As she's speaking, several CSI's come down the stairs, carrying two body bags. Asami wails from her spot on the couch, immediately bursting into tears, and Mako flinches.

Korra winces as Asami's cries grow louder, "Come on, let's get out of here. We need to get started on the mounds of paperwork this case is going to give us." She casts a sympathetic look towards Asami as they turn to leave, but the look is gone just as quickly as it had appeared. He can tell that she masks her feelings. She'd easily handled the bodies and blood, had even examined them closely.

"It doesn't bother you?" Mako asks, as they return to the police cruiser. "Seeing that?" He means Asami, destroyed over her parents' deaths, the blood.

"Of course it does." Korra says, glancing at him, "But there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can do except catch whoever did this and make sure the DA's office has enough evidence to put him away for life." She starts the car, casting one last look at the Sato home before she turns the wheel, driving away.

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"What I can't put my finger on is motive." Korra says, pouring a packet of sugar into her coffee. The partners are seated in the break room, pouring over notes from the CSI's, Asami's statement, and Iroh's findings so far. "It went from the un-sub burglarizing the home to a double murder. Of course, the un-sub brought his own weapons, which means he probably knew how far it was going to go. Asami said she had never seen the hammer before. And it was wiped clean of fingerprints, not one piece of trace evidence. Sounds premeditated to me. He brought his own tools, he knew exactly how far it was going to go." Korra grits her teeth, eyes passing over the photo of the happy Sato family, and then over a photo of the bloodstained bedroom.

"Or," Mako flips a page of one of the CSI's observations over, scanning the back of it quickly, "his intentions were to kill them, and make it look like a robbery."

"Plausible." Korra agrees, thinking it over. She takes a sip of her coffee. "But why leave Asami alive?"

Mako leans back in his chair, holding a picture of Asami's bruised wrists. "I don't know." He answers honestly, "I've never seen or even _heard _of anything like this. He left nothing behind. Not a fingerprint, not a hair. It's like he wasn't even there. He knew what he was doing."

Korra tilts her head, "Are you thinking professional hit?" she wonders, intrigued.

"I think it would have been possible, if Mr. Sato would have had any enemies. Everyone I've spoken to only has good things to say about the Sato family." Mako runs a hand through his hair. It had been twenty six hours since the murders, and he hadn't had a wink of sleep. Korra herself was on her seventh cup of coffee in the last two hours. He drops the picture of Asami's wrists onto the table between them. He hadn't even gotten the chance to get to know his partner like he desperately wanted. All they'd talked about thus far were the murders. The first forty eight hours were crucial, but so far, they'd come up with nothing. They'd hit a dead end.

"Go home, Mako." Korra orders, "Nothing is going to change here the longer we stare at it. We'll look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow, and maybe Iroh will have something for us."

Mako rubs a hand tiredly over his eyes, "Yeah, you're right." He agrees.

They clean up the files before locking them away, and Korra swings her purse up onto her arm before she turns back to him, "You did great with Asami, by the way." she tells him, "The Chief was very impressed." They exit the building together, Mako holding the front doors open for her.

"When I was nine I was in the same position as her." Mako shrugs, "Maybe she knows a kindred spirit when she sees one. I'll see you tomorrow, Korra." He leaves his partner standing there, mouth open in an 'o' shape.

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Mako climbs the stairs to his apartment slowly, yawning the entire way. As he enters the apartment, his cat Pabu winds around his legs, meowing animatedly. He collapses onto his bed fully clothed, badge still around his neck. He falls asleep instantly, chasing dreams of mocha colored skin and striking blue eyes and cups of coffee shared over a murder case file.

**To be continued.**

**UP NEXT; PART TWO: WEDDING RINGS**

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A/N: I imagine Cop!Mako as a more attractive Detective Stabler. Not much Makorra yet, but it's only the first chapter of many ;)


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